


The Servant of the Crone

by BrennaThomas



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: And anyone else I may have forgotten to tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:35:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21521197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrennaThomas/pseuds/BrennaThomas
Summary: Summary: Starts in season 2 episode 2 The Once and Future Queen, someone pursued Myror to Camelot to kill him, but stays to help the Warlock and Prince.I welcome any and all comments. I want to improve my writing and the best way to do that is to get feed back. Both the good and the bad, feel free to point out mistakes. Tell me what you like and dislike.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Servant of the Crone

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OC

______________________________________________________________________________

**“The Once and Future Queen”**

Green eyes watched Myror count the gold given to him by King Odin. They internally scoffed, King Odin hired the best  known assassin, but an assassin lives in the shadows of the world, only emerging to gift The Crone with a fresh soul, they are swift and unseen. To be known is to be dead. Myror was skilled yes, but he was not the best. 

The Crone had commanded them to collect Myrors soul before he brought any harm to the prince, but their own soul was buzzing with excitement, something was coming. The start of something powerful and great. As long as the soul was collected and the prince was unharmed, the Crone would not care too greatly if they took their time collecting the soul. Because they knew that the Crone was guiding them to something, so they would follow her guiding hand and trust in her. 

______________________________________________________________________________

**The Woods outside Camelot**

“I’ll meet you here in four days. You must tell no one that I have returned to Camelot.” they were surprised as the prince of Camelot sent off a company of knights with an empty horse.  _ Maybe he has caught wind of King Odin’s scheme? _ They had been surprised when they flew ahead of Myror to find the prince himself outside the walls of the city, and decided to keep watch. It would be more prudent to watch the prince while Myror followed the knights. 

It wasn’t long before a young dark haired man joined them, they couldn’t help the laughter that left them when the boy tripped and fell in his haste to join the prince.  _ So this is the Great Emrys?  _ The Crone had of course shown them images of both great men, but seeing them in person did not have the same awe inspiring effect as her mistress’ scrying pool.

Emrys was out of breath when he got back on his feet and approached the now annoyed prince. “You’re late.”

“Sorry… Gaius… The floors…” They giggled a little when he mimed pushing a broom or mop around. The prince stared at him oddly, took the bag his servant was carrying and began to remove his armor. They couldn’t help but muse how… compatible the two were, both souls absolutely shined under their gaze, Emrys’ more so than the princes; the princes soul shone a beautiful royal and courageous red, while Emrys’ resembled the sun, they shivered at the power it held, it was the color of magic itself and burned so brightly that they had to shield their eyes. But both souls resonated with one another and when their souls reached out to the other they mixed together, without overwhelming the other. It was beautiful to watch.

“What is that smell?” the princes question brought them out of their musings, “Whose clothes are these?”

“They’re mine. I washed them specially.” Said Emrys, a little put off by the princes rejection. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” now that question made them curious.

“It seems pretending to be someone else is the only way to get people to be honest with me.” Emrys shared their complete disbelief at that statement, lying to get the truth seemed counter productive.

“Grab my bag, will you?” commanded the prince.

Emrys smiled, “To pass as a peasant, you should probably carry your own bag.”

“You’re forgetting something, Merlin. No one will know it’s my bag.”  _ But it’s empty.  _ They thought,  _ he is very lazy. _

“There are easier ways to prove yourself.” said Merlin as he followed after his prince.

“Shut up Merlin.” commanded the prince.

They watched the two go before returning to Myror, while staying with the Prince would be a good idea they needed to keep an eye on Myror, this is one of the times they wished that the mistress had gifted them with the ability to split themselves. They returned just in time to catch Myror taking aim at an empty horse, they smiled at his confusion and eventual annoyance. They stayed with Myror for the rest of the day, and followed him into the city once the night had taken hold. They could feel their power increase as the darkness became more prominent, this was a sacred time for them and their goddess, they reveled in it.

They had to admit that Myror was indeed skilled as he snuck into the city,  _ either that or the prowess of Camelot’s guards has been greatly exaggerated.  _ As he gained entry into the castle they shed their disguise and merged with the castle shadows, to continue following him. They spotted the patrolling knight before he did, “Halt. Show yourself.” Myror complied and chuckled when he came face to face with the knight, “What business do you have in the palace?”

“I came to seek an audience with prince Arthur.” said Myror, not frightened in the slightest at being caught.

“What' s your name?” asked the knight.

“My name is Myror.” As he grabbed the knight and dragged him off, they prayed to the Crone for the souls safe passage, thankfully Myror was merciful and snapped the knights neck. A quick, painless and more importantly quiet death. Myror stashed him in a chest and continued to search the castle, and when he found the page he was looking for his anger came to the surface. He grabbed the page and slammed him against the stone wall of the corridor.

The page was terrified, “Why are you here?”

“Your information was wrong. Prince Arthur is not among the party traveling to the Northern borders.”

“He left yesterday…”

“They must have separated. Perhaps he has returned to Camelot?” Suggested Myror watching the pages face closely. 

“Not that I’ve heard. His return would have been announced at Court.”

“It would seem the Prince does not want to be found. Hmm.” Myror left the trembling page and the castle to return to his camp. Once back at his camp they left to find out where the Prince was staying, they marveled at how beautiful the city was during their goddesses reign. As they flew they could feel a tug on their soul calling for them to join it, but the Crone had warned them of the Great Dragon and his games. The Great Dragon was wise, yes, but his time in captivity had made him bitter and selfish.

They searched the city for that shining red soul and eventually found it in a modest home. What surprised them the most was the gentle pink soul they found with it.  _ Now that is a truly beautiful soul _ , they thought as they observed the sleeping girl. She was beautiful, with tea colored skin, and dark curls framing a delicate face. They watched the pink soul react to the presence of the princes red soul, the pink soul was open to the red soul, but reluctant to connect with it.  _ Interesting.  _ Having located the prince they made themselves comfortable on the windowsill to keep watch over the two souls.

**Next Day**

They were bored as they listened to the Kings’ speech. They had awoken at Day Break to return to Myror, and joined the assassin in watching the jousting tournament.  _ I don’t see how knocking each other off of a horse with sticks is ‘the Ultimate test of courage’. _ They watched as the crowd cheered each knight as the tournament began, they watched the red soul triumph again and again against its opponents. They had to admit that having a long thick piece of wood shattering against your body would not be a pleasant experience,  _ I guess you’d have to be brave to willingly endure that for the entertainment of others. _ The page who was feeding information to Myror, joined them in the stands,

“Do you have news on the whereabouts of Prince Arthur?” asked Myror.

The Page kept his eyes on the tournament as he spoke, “Everyone believes he is traveling to the northern borders, but I have discovered that Arthur’s servant remains in Camelot.” 

That intrigued Myror, “Who is this servant?”

“That’s him.” The page nodded to the tents where Emrys was tending to a knights horse.

Myror studied the boy, “Why is he working for another knight?”

They followed Myror as he followed Emrys, thankfully he never returned to the home the Prince was residing in. They counted that as a small boon form the Crone, that Myror had still not discovered where the Prince was hiding, but they knew it wouldn’t be for long. When Myror returned to his camp they returned to their perch from the night before, to watch the pink soul interact with the Prince.

The two had just finished dinner, the pink soul cleaned up after the prince, and as she cleaned his plate she struck up a conversation. “I hear, the ladies of the Court are quite impressed with Sir William. They think he’s very handsome.”

The Prince was annoyed by that piece of information. “Typical. They wouldn’t know a real knight if he whacked then ‘round the head with his lance.” That garnered a smile from the pink soul.

She seemed to be bolstering herself for a minute before she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

The Princes silence was contemplative, he had obviously been thinking about this for some time. “I fear that people respect me just because of my title.” They scoffed  _ There will always be people who respect a title, and not the person who holds it. _

“I don’t believe that’s true of everyone.” She said diplomatically.

“Would you tell me if it were?” he asked pessimistically

“No.” she answered honestly.

“When I’m competing as William, my title doesn’t matter. Nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament, if I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it, not because I’m Prince Arthur.” They rolled their eyes at the admission,  _ You still have a title as a knight. _ But they watched as his red soul shone at his admission,  _ an honest answer. _ The pink soul stretched out to meet the princes royal red, it liked the honesty the red soul had shown. Seeming to realize how truthful he had been with a servant he found himself again, “I think I’ll take a bath.”

“That might be difficult, seeing as I don’t have a bathtub.” That brought the Prince up short,

“Really? Perhaps you could prepare me a bowl of hot water. I take it you have a bowl?”  _ So much for no special treatment _

“I think I can manage a bowl.” The pink soul retracted itself completely from the red soul, the pink soul was angry with the Princes arrogance. Grabbing a yellow shawl she prepared to leave her home and cater to the princes order, “I’ll just walk all the way down to the well, and fetch some water then, shall I?” She was ignored by the prince and left in a huff, knowing Myror to be asleep and unwilling to let the pink soul travel alone they followed her to the well. She passed a patrol in a quiet rage, her pink soul writhing in anger at the Princes arrogance. Seeing how upset she was they decided to see if they could cheer her up.

As she placed the bucket under the well spout they landed on it, startling her a bit, “Oh!” she jumped away from the spout and clutched a hand to her chest. Seeing that it was only a crow she felt silly for being scared, she shook her head and went back to the spout only a little wary of the bird perched on it staring at her. When it didn’t caw or peck at her hands she relaxed as she filled the bucket. She was startled again when the crow flapped its wings to get her attention, pausing in her task she eyed the bird, that tilted its head at her examination. Seeing that no one was around she copied the crow and tilted her head the same way, and followed the crows lead when it tilted its head in the other direction. Knowing that she was paying attention the crow moved closer to the girl and looked at her expectantly, somehow understanding what the bird was after the girl lifted one finger to stroke the crows plumage. When the bird leaned into her touch she became more bold, gently gliding the tips of her fingers along the birds back,

“Such a nice pretty bird. Have you come to keep me company then?” The girl smiled at the birds answering caw, “Well, then thank you. You are much better company then the one in my house. Can you imagine, making me walk all the way down to this well to gather water so that he can have a bath in the middle of the night.” She shook her head, “Honestly, saying he wants no special treatment, but then demanding to have a bath and making me prepare it for him. Heaven forbid that he gather and boil the water for himself. And in my own home too.” The bird cooed sympathetically which earned them a smile from the girl, “At least someone is a gentleman.” The bird squawked, “Oh, sorry, my Lady.” She giggled at her own silliness. “I’m sorry, but I have to get this water back. Thank you for the company.”

They watched the pink soul return home with the water and congratulated themselves on a job well done.

**Next day**

They shed their feathers today to follow Myror. The Crone had visited their dreams and commanded them to don their human form, she also commanded them to leave the assassin to Emrys, their task now was to observe only and collect his soul once the breath had left his body. They had not protested, their mistress’s word was law and it was not within their right to question it. After giving them her orders the Crone departed from their dream. So now they were walking through the marketplace, observing the various stalls and their wares, while they made their way to the tournament stands.

They enjoyed the energy of Camelot, for a kingdom that banned magic, it had a magic all its own. The people were full of life and in great spirits thanks to the tournament and the business it brought. People from various kingdoms would come to Camelot to attend whatever tournament was being held by the kingdom, they let themselves get lost in the city’s energy. Letting it guide them to their desired location.

___

Merlin was exhausted as he made his way towards the tournament tents. He hadn’t meant to blow up at Gaius, but he was so tired of working all day and night. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a break from serving/protecting Arthur (and Camelot) or helping Gaius. He knew that if he just told Gaius what was going on that he would let him rest, but he had promised Arthur that he wouldn’t say a word to anyone. He sighed, sometimes he really regretted being born with magic; what had it ever gotten him? Trouble, that’s what and a whole mess of it too.

So lost in his musings, Merlin failed to see the girl he was about to walk into. The two bumped into each other, Merlin almost knocked the poor girl down, but he quickly grasped her arms and kept her on her feet. “I am so sorry!” The words flew out of his mouth as he set about checking the girl he had almost knocked to the ground, “I wasn’t… paying…” Merlin’s speech slowed when his eyes landed on the girls face or more importantly her eyes. Her very beautiful, vivid green eyes, “… Attention.” Merlin felt the magic coursing through his veins soar as he gazed into the girls eyes.

They felt their soul sing when they made eye contact with Emrys. It practically vibrated in happiness when he grasped their arms, in such a strong and sure grip. Staring into his eyes they couldn’t help but compare the color of his eyes to a Robins egg,  _ or maybe the clear sky of Spring? _ Finding their voice they spoke, “Um, no, no. It was my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ve never been to Camelot before and I guess I was just overwhelmed.”

Merlin smiled at the sound of her voice, “Yeah, it can be a bit of a shock the first time, but you get used to it.” Noticing that they were in the middle of the market street he guided the girl off to the side against the side of a home. She let him lead her out of the way, more than happy to follow if it meant he would keep a hold of her arms. The two stared into the other’s eyes for a few minutes until Merlin seemed to find himself again. Realizing that he was still holding her arms he dropped them with a blush. “My name’s Merlin.”

She was a little sad at the loss of contact but smiled when he spoke to her. “My name is Xylda.”

“That’s an interesting name.” he said

“Thank you?” she said

Realizing what his comment had sounded like Merlin back tracked, “I meant, it’s an unusual name. I mean strange, I mean…” His rambling was interrupted by the tinkling of bells,  _ No, not bells, she’s laughing. _ Merlin watched Xylda giggle at him. He took the time to examine the girl more closely, she looked to be the same age as him, with dark red hair, pale skin, vivid green eyes, surrounded by long lashed, with round cheeks and pale pink lips. She was dressed in a simple blue dress with a darker colored corset with silver embroidery, and a dark blue shawl to protect herself from the cold. He admired her slim waist and full hips, blushing at his own observation Merlin brought his eyes back to her face, seeing that her laughter had started to subside he tried to apologize, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s alright. I understand, it’s not a name you hear everyday, but it’s mine, so I can’t complain.” In truth Xylda loved her name, it had been gifted to her by the Crone herself so she bore her name with pride.

“So you say this is your first time in Camelot?” asked Merlin, wanting to strike up a conversation with the pretty girl, his magic encouraged him to keep her close and he indulged the feeling.

She gave him a radiant smile, “Yes, I’ve been hearing about Camelot’s tournaments for years and finally decided to attend one for myself.”

“And what do you think?” he asked.

“Honestly?” she asked, at Merlin’s encouraging nod she continued, “I think that the knights are touched in the head.” Merlin burst into his own laughter at the blunt statement his, loud outburst brining the two some attention from passerby’s.

Xylda took the time to study Emrys in person, she had of course seen him in her mistress’s scrying dish, but it was different seeing such a powerful man in person. He had messy dark black hair that framed his pale sharp face, if she didn’t know better she would have mistook him for the half child of an elf, but Emrys possessed no fae or elvish blood, her head only reached the shoulders of his thin frame and his thin frame belittled the strength she had felt in his hands. Manual labor obviously agreed with him.

“I can’t say I disagree. Though they believe it proves their worth, so I guess that’s all that matters. Besides it never fails to cheer up the citizens.” He said,

“I guess so. But surely there are better ways than sticking each other with pieces of wood, to prove their bravery?” Merlin just shrugged.

Knowing that he had to get to Arthur or risk being flogged Merlin sadly had to say goodbye to Xylda. “Um, I have to go, my Master is competing in the tournament and I have to go and help him into his armor.”

Xylda frowned at having to say goodbye, but she knew that she also had a job to do, “Yes, and I have to go find a good seat. I enjoyed talking with you, maybe we can talk some more sometime…” she let her sentence trail off letting Merlin catch the hint.

Both blushed at the invitation, “I would love that. Are you staying after the tournament?” he asked hopefully,

She nodded, “Yes, I am.”

His smile was blinding, “Then how about I meet you at the tavern. That’s where you're staying isn’t it?”

_ No.  _ “Yes. I look forward to talking to you again, Merlin. Good luck.” Merlin watched Xylda walk towards the tournament stands with a big dumb grin on his face. His earlier exhaustion was absent as he made his way to the tournament tents with a spring in his step.

Unbeknownst to the two, their interaction had been witnessed by two outside parties;

_ Interesting. It would seem that the Crone has decided to play her hand after all. _

_ I wish you luck young Xylda. The journey to come will be a long one, but I am confident you will be strong. _ A withered hand disrupted the waters image and returned to its spinning wheel.

Xylda watched Myror instead of the tournament from the back of the opposite stands, she didn’t risk sitting directly across from him, so she chose a place further down that allowed her more cover. She didn’t like Myrors soul, it was a void, not a black void but an empty green that resembled cold stone. It was strange to see such a color devoid of life surrounded by such happy souls. She easily noticed the pink soul close to the King and his Ward, she was sitting next to an older gentleman with a soothing and magenta colored soul. She didn’t spare a glance at the King, she knew what lied in his heart and soul and did not wish to look at it, but the Lady Morgana was interesting. Her mistress had informed her of what the Lady’s fate would be and looking at her soul she could see the hatred laying dormant inside her, a hatred that looked identical to the Kings. A ugly oppressive color that swam amongst the Indigo, almost hiding, waiting for the opportunity to consume the other color. She shivered, she did not want to see the day that red overwhelmed her soul, and consumed what kindness she possessed.

Seeing Myror’s soul begin to move reclaimed Xylda’s attention. She wasted no time and followed him out of the stands and to the tents, her heart almost froze when he approached Merlin who was tending to a horse. Finding a spot close enough to hear any conversation between the two, but away from prying eyes she would wait for Myror to leave, before approaching Merlin.

“He’s a fine horse.” Said Myror petting the beautiful animal as it drank from a trough. “I see your master has advanced to the final. He’s extremely skilled with a lance.”

Merlin smiled at the praise for Arthur, he knew that Arthur was an amazing fighter and hearing someone praise his master made him happy. “He’s doing well. Just one more match to go.”

“Tell me, what is he like to work for?”

“Between you and me, he can be a bit of a prat.” Both men chuckled at the jab,

“So you are no longer working for Prince Arthur?” asked Myror. Xylda practically face palmed at that,  _ Seriously, how is that not suspicious. _

Xylda smiled when Merlin said resolutely, “No.”, but frowned when he kept talking, well floundering would be a more accurate description, “Yes, not right now, though. Arthur’s away. I’m just helping out.” Myror wasn’t convinced,

“I wish your master luck in the final.” Myror bowed to Merlin

“Thanks.” He said watching Myror leave. Once Myror was out of eyesight Xylda approached Merlin. Spotting her Merlin smiled, “Xylda!” he exclaimed making the girl blush. Seeing her embarrassment Merlin blushed as well,

“Hello, again Merlin. I just wanted to give my congratulations on your Master making it to the finals.” Idlily her hands drifted to the horses mane which brought her closer to Merlin’s side, Merlin was happy with her closer proximity.

“Thank you. But I don’t know why you're thanking me, my master’s the one who does all the winning.” He chuckled making Xylda smile at his humility,

“But without the support of others where would any of us be?”

“True.” he agreed.

Feeling Myror’s soul getting further and further away, Xylda had to sadly say goodbye to Merlin, “I have to go, but I look forward to our next meeting, Merlin.” Not knowing why Xylda found herself placing a kiss upon Merlin’s cheek surprising not only herself but the man in question, who gave her an awed look as she left.

_ She kissed me. On the cheek, but still a kiss is a kiss. _ Merlin watched her leave and then went back to his work whistling a happy tune his mother had taught him. Xylda smiled hearing the tune, and followed the trail of Myror’s soul, finding a little alcove Xylda let herself transform into a crow to continue her surveillance.

As the day progressed Myror took some time to get a drink at the tavern to kill some time, but as soon as the sun began to set, he left to sneak into the castle. Myror could not merge with the shadows like she could but he gave it a good shot. Myror crept through the castle silently and eventually found the Princes quarters, he inspected it with a keen eye. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Myror hid by the wardrobe, Xylda felt her heart freeze again when Merlin entered and approached Myror’s hiding place. Her blood boiled a little when Myror produced a blade intent on using it should he be discovered by the servant, she readied herself, if Myror so much as twitched towards the warlock she would act. Surely the Crone would not punish her for defying her orders to protect Emrys. She sighed in relief when Merlin grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe and left, but that relief quickly left when she realized that he would be returning to Arthur and lead Myror right to the Prince.

They both followed Merlin back to the Pink soul’s home after he made a quick stop at the castle kitchen to grab a meal for two. Myror was eager when Merlin disappeared inside the pink souls home, Arthur quickly took the shirt and changed into it while Merlin set the table. Arthur kept watch as Merlin worked to make the table nice, “She’s coming.” Arthur announced, “Quick, out the back way.” Merlin went to leave, but Arthur spotted the uncooked chicken by the stove and retrieved it. “Do something with this.” He said tossing it to Merlin, the boy blanched when he caught the raw chicken and Xylda didn’t blame him,

“I hope Gwen’s impressed with your cooking.” He teased and fled before Arthur could retaliate.  _ So that’s the name of the Pink soul. _

When Gwen entered her home she expected to find a mess she would have to clean up, but she was surprised to find her home clean, a meal for two on her table and a prince waiting for her. “Guinevere, perfect timing.”

Gwen gave him a cautious smile, when she went to take a seat at the table she thanked Arthur when he pulled out her stool for her and she eyed the meal. Arthur took the seat across from her and the two set about enjoying the meal.

Myror watched the two with a smile, he had finally found his prey, he crouched underneath the window and pulled a miniature crossbow bolt from his leather bracer, and the miniature crossbow from his coat. Seeing the weapons Xylda readied herself to strike him down before he could harm the Prince, but before she could act she spotted a patrol and thinking quickly she knocked over a crate to attract their attention. The patrol spotted Myror, whom seeing that he was discovered fled from his prey, with the patrol group hot on his heels. “Hey, you. Stop right there.” Xylda left Myror in the capable hands of the patrol guards and took flight to watch the chase. She almost fell out of the sky when Myror slipped all the guards that had given chase, she also had to stop herself from killing Myror right there and then when she spotted him fleeing to his camp. She couldn’t though, not anymore, her mistress was clear, only Emrys could kill Myror, but her task remained the same, collect his soul and present it to the Crone. Myror would not try again this night, so for the time being Arthur was safe, but she still returned to Guinevere’s home to keep an eye on the Prince.

And it would seem she returned at the right time, because an awkward silence had descended on the home. Guinevere stood by the stove and Arthur stood across from her by the window she was perched on. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He said

“I’m not ashamed to be a servant. At least I’m not a liar.” Xylda winced at her hurt tone,

“We had a nice meal, together. What does it matter where it came from?”  _ That was the wrong thing to say, mate. _

“Because I thought you had shown some humility. You had done something kind for me even though I’m just a servant. A good King should respect his people no matter who they are.” That was certainly a shock to the Prince’s system, and when she turned away from him he grabbed her arm to turn her back,

“Guinevere.” She let him turn her around to face him again, “I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at, cooking being one of them, but also, knowing what to say to someone I care about.” Xylda watched as Guinevere’s pink soul opened up to Arthur’s red soul and entwined themselves together, the moment on the other hand was ruined by Merlin’s abrupt entrance.

“Arthur, there’s an assassin in Camelot. He’s here to kill you.” He said between panting breaths. A hushed silence fell between the three while Xylda sat on her perch and watched,  _ about time they found the body. _ She thought tiredly.

“The assassin killed a guard. Your father said Odin had sent him.” Explained Merlin.

“Why would Odin want you dead?” questioned Guinevere

“Because I killed his son.” Arthurs tone was sad and full of acceptance for what he had done. “Odin’s son challenged me to a fight. I had no quarrel with him. I asked him to withdraw. Perhaps he felt he had to prove himself. I still see his face. He looked so scared.”

Guinevere tried to console him, “You cannot blame yourself.”

_ Yes, he can. But he  _ _ shouldn’t _ _ blame himself. _

“No one, but us, knows where you are. If the assassin can’t find you, he can’t kill you.”  _ A little late for that, but the guards do have a reasonable idea what he looks like, which is enough to make him tread lightly from this point on. _

Arthur looked to Guinevere, “May I continue to stay here?”

“Of course. For as long as you need.”

“Thank you. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.” He said

“No, have my bed. You need to be well rested for the tournament tomorrow.”

“I will not hear of it. Good night, Guinevere.”

“Good night.”

Merlin joined Arthur while Guinevere continued to clean up their dinner. Checking to make sure she couldn’t hear, Arthur addressed Merlin, “Fetch a mattress from my quarters and bring it here.” He whispered.

Merlin was incredulous, “How am I supposed to carry a mattress on my own?”

“I don’t know. Strap it to your back.” Arthur and Merlin stared the other down, before Merlin left, bidding goodbye to Guinevere as he did. Xylda bid her leave as well and adjourned to Myror’s camp, he had one more chance to kill the Prince and she was sure that he would take it tomorrow.

**Next Day**

Xylda stuck close to Myror the next day, yet again she watched as he took another life, taking the place of Sir Alynor, donning his armor and equipping his own modified lance. When Myror mounted his stolen horse and rode to the arena Xylda searched for Merlin, quickly taking her mortal form she used her sight to locate his soul. He was by the arena waiting to watch the match, having already handed Arthur his lance, she startled him when she grabbed his arms and whirled him around to face her.

“Xylda! What are yo—”

Her voice was urgent as she interrupted him, “Arthurs jousting against the assassin.”

Merlin’s happy face became grave, “What?” Hearing the crowd cheer they both turned to watch the horses charge towards the other, it was over in an instant. They held their breath as Arthur was knocked off balance, he didn’t fall off the horse and quickly righted himself, but he was obviously injured.

“It’s the lance! It contains a hidden blade at the tip!” she explained pulling him along to the tent of Sir Alynor. Neither spoke as they peaked inside the tent to watch Myror don his stolen helmet once again, and leave. Merlin spotted the body of Sir Alynor and his eyes widened. Merlin rushed away from the tent to Arthur’s, with Xylda following him.

They arrived too late, lance in hand Arthur rode to the arena, but Gwen was there. “Gwen? Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s about to joust.” She said glancing at Xylda briefly before focusing solely on her distressed friend.

“He’s jousting against the assassin.” Gwen raced after Merlin to the arena, both incredibly worried for their Prince. Xylda stuck closely to the two as they pushed through the crowd, Merlin stopped to watch the two horses get closer, Xylda felt his magic build and shivered when he spoke words of power, ‘ **_Onbinde þa téage’_ ** **.** With the saddle strap broken Myror tumbled from the horse violently and broke his neck, Merlin quickly moved to help his master, pushing through the crowd yet again to get to him and help him off his horse to his tent. Seeing this as an opportunity to disappear Xylda left Gwen in the crowd and followed the body of Myror to the physician’s tent. The old gentleman with the magenta soul was there to greet the two men carrying the body.

“Place him on the table inside.” His voice was gentle as he gave the order. Xylda circled the tent and waited for the two men to leave before entering. Noticing her, the gentleman turned to her, “I apologize miss, but you cannot be here.” Xylda let the small charm on her forehead dissipate, revealing the mark of her Mistress and her kin, a black waning crescent moon. The man’s eyes widened at the mark, he knew what it meant and more importantly whom this girl served, “What business do you have here?” She had to give the man credit, his voice was firm and without a trace of fear.

“I am here to do as my Mistress has commanded me. I am here to collect the soul of Myror.” She said as she advanced on the dead body, the man did not stop her, but he did protest,

“Then you are mistaken. This is Sir Aly—” he stopped his protest when Xylda removed the helmet hiding the assassin’s face. It was at that point that Merlin poked his head into the tent to check on his mentor, “Merlin. Who’s this man? Where’s Sir Alynor?”

“I believe that I can explain.” Both men turned toward Xylda, she winced at Merlin’s suspicious look.

“Xylda. Thank you for warning me about the assassin.” She smiled at the thanks, but frowned when he added, “Though I’d like to know how you knew about him and who he was.”

She nodded her head solemnly, “Yes. I have much to explain. I will meet you in your quarters tonight. But first I must complete my task.” She said turning to Myror’s still form,

“What are y—” he never got to finish his question when Xylda produced a small glass bottle. Taking a small curved black blade, Xylda made a small cut at the bottom of Myror’s throat, Gaius and Merlin watched as a green wispy light left Myror’s body and filled the bottle. Once it was full Xylda corked the bottle, placed it in a pocket of her dress and turned to the two gaping men.

“I will see you both tonight.” Xylda changed into a crow, before their very eyes and flew out of the tent.

Merlin turned to his mentor, “What just happened?”

“Something we will discuss with the young lady tonight. But right now you are going to explain to me where Sir Alynor is and why this Myror is wearing his armor.” Merlin winced at Gaius’s tone.  _ Something tells me that I’ll be hip deep in the leech tank for the next few days. _

**That Night**

Merlin and Gaius waited patiently for Xylda to join them. Merlin had spent the rest of the day cleaning the leech tank, he shivered at the memory of Gaius helping him remove what leeches had attached themselves to him while he was cleaning. His mentor chuckled having caught his ward’s full body shiver,  _ Serve’s the boy right for not telling me about Arthur’s scheme.  _ Merlin glared at the man and asked his questions, “So that mark on Xylda’s forehead?”

“The mark of the Crone and the Dark Fae.”

“Who's the Crone? And what are Dark Fae?”

Gaius sighed at the boy’s confusion, it was easy to forget that Merlin had not studied for his magic as he had in his youth, Merlin was indeed gifted. Unfortunately, his gift did not come with knowledge, but he supposed that that’s what his job was as his mentor. “You have of course, heard of the Triple Goddess?” at the boys nod he continued, “This goddess is so named because she possesses three forms; The Maiden, The Mother and The Crone. Some depict the goddess as having three separate bodies, while others depict her as one woman who is a Maiden in the morning, a Mother in the evening, and a Crone at night.”

“Which one is true?” he asked, Gaius shrugged,

“I do not know. Such knowledge was only known by the goddess’s direct servants. Like young Xylda, whom is a Dark Fae.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“The Dark Fae were a warrior race of Fae that was created by the Crone. She created them to be warriors to protect the creatures of magic.” Gaius frowned, “During the Purge they fought to protect those with magic.”

“What happened to them?”

“They disappeared at the end of the Purge. And it was believed them all to have perished.”

“In a way you are right, Physician.” The sound of Xylda’s voice came from the door of Merlin’s room. Merlin jumped from the table at her voice, knocking over Gaius’s cup which then rolled onto the floor, thankfully it was empty.

“Merlin!” Merlin winced at the reprimand,

“Sorry, Gaius.” Merlin’s eyes were affixed to Xylda who stayed at the top of the stairs leading to his room, dressed head to toe in black leather. A black tunic covered by a black vest and hood was tucked into black leather trousers, which were in turn tucked into tall riding boots and black gloves covered her hands, but they puzzled Merlin because the fingers were missing. Her dark red hair spilled down her back in a waterfall of blood, her pale skin was more pronounced being enveloped in such a dark color, and the waning moon in the center of her forehead was especially visible on her pale skin. At the silence Xylda bit her lip and kept her eyes downcast, refusing to look at him.

“At the end of the Purge my kin had helped ferry those with magic to our own realm. We opened a door and ushered as many as we could to safety, but at a great cost.” She stepped down the stairs towards both men, “My kin sacrificed themselves to close the door.”

“What about you?” asked Merlin, “If they all perished how are you here?” 

She smiled sadly, “My mother was pregnant at the time and could not be a part of the ritual. My father, her soul bond died and as such my mother passed not long after my birth. In a show of great kindness the Crone herself took me into her care.”

“If she created the Dark Fae surely she could created them again.” said Merlin,

Gaius shook his head, “No Merlin. Even the gods must follow the rules of magic. For a life to be given…”

“A life must be taken.” he finished. “So why are you here?”

Merlin offered her his seat, but she shook her head and stood by the table instead, so Merlin retook his seat as she began to explain. “I serve the Crone. As the last of my kind the duties of my people fall to me. I collect souls and protect the small amount of magical creatures that still exist here.”

“So she sent you here to collect Myror’s soul.” said Gaius. She nodded.

“Why?”

She shrugged, “I did not ask. If my Mistress gives me command I follow it to the best of my abilities.” She cleared her throat, “Which brings me to a new matter.” Xylda’s mind wandered to the visit her Mistress had paid her.

_ You will remain in Camelot my child. You will protect and serve Emrys as you have for me for all these years. _ Xylda had shed a tear at that, her Mistress was leaving her,  _ Do not cry my child, for I am not leaving you. I am merely giving you a new task. You will protect and serve Emrys, he has a great destiny and I fear that it will be too much for him if he does not have the support he needs. Someone must protect the protector, and that job, my child, has always been yours. Every step you have taken has been towards this, do not doubt your skill.  _ Xylda dried her tears and bowed to her Mistress,  _ I will always be with you, my child, never forget that. _

“On my Mistress’s orders I am here to serve you now Emrys. I am to serve and protect you as you serve and protect Arthur.” Merlin turned wide eyes to his mentor who was watching the scene with equally wide eyes.

Seeing that he would get no help from Gaius he turned to the fae girl, “I don’t need a servant.”

“I am not a servant.” Xylda lifted her head, but remained on her knee, “I am a weapon. Molded by my Mistress to better serve her and now she is giving me to you to wield as you see fit. Let me help you protect the prince.” 

Merlin studied the girl in front of him before he replied, “Why do you want to help me?” When she went to answer he cut her off, “Don’t say it’s because your Mistress commanded it. Why do  you want to help me?”

Xylda smiled and held Merlins eyes as she answered, “Because I believe in the King you are helping Arthur to become. My Mistress has shown me how he has changed in the single year you have been by his side. With your guidance Arthur will become a great and just King, and if I can help you achieve that then I will.”

Merlin could see the honesty in her eyes as she answered him. His magic also told him that she was telling the truth, he didn’t know what to say so he stood and offered her a hand When she took his hand his magic flared at the contact and he knew that his eyes had changed colors for the briefest of moments and Xylda had seen it. “You’re not my weapon. You’re my friend.” Xylda’s heart soared at the declaration, she even flung her arms around the warlock’s neck to hug him.

“Thank you.” Merlin smiled and returned the hug, the two were broken apart by the clearing of Gaius’s throat.

“It’s all well and good that you’re going to help Merlin, Xylda, but there is one issue we need to discuss.” At the pairs confused look Gaius sighed, “Where are you going to sleep?”

Xylda smiled, “I will stay in a nest I made in a tree near Gwen’s home.” Xylda had spent the rest of the day building it. She knew that Gwen was important to the Prince so she felt obligated to keep an eye on the girl. Especially when she learned that she was the Lady Morgana’s personal maid.

“A nest?” asked Merlin

“Yes. A nest allows me to stay in Camelot without drawing attention to myself and allows me to keep a better eye on the city. After all, who pays attention to a bird?” Merlin and Gaius began to laugh confusing the poor girl, but seeing no objections she joined them.

**Bonus!**

Merlin smiled at Xylda as she joined him and Gaius at the table, “So if you are a Dark Fairy, where are your wings?” He was surprised when Gaius choked on his water and Xylda’s face flushed a deep red. “The Sidhe have wings and their fairies so I thought--”

“Merlin, I don’t think--”

“No. It’s alright.” She interrupted Gaius, “To answer your question I do have wings, but contrary to what most think, most fairies keep their wings hidden from human eyes.”

“Why?”

“A fairies wings are not simply a means of flight. They reflect souls, by looking at a fairies wings you can tell if they’re happy, sad or angry. They are a source of great pride.” She frowned angrily, “Humans who defeated fairies in battle would take their wings as prizes.” Her fists clenched.

Merlin frowned in horror and looked to Gaius who nodded gravely, “During the Purge they were seen as a sign of a knight’s skill.”

“In doing so they not only desecrated the bodies of my kin, but also robbed their soul’s of being able to find peace.” Merlin placed his hands over her clenched fists and raising her head Xylda realized that she was crying.

“I am sorry.”

She removed one hand from his to wipe the tears away, “Because of this fairies hide their wings from sight outside of flight when in the human realm. For us to unfold them before a human's eyes is a show of absolute trust.”

Merlin smiled, “Well. I hope to see them some day.” 

She smiled back, “As do I.”

**End of Chapter One.**


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